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“But you will be home by Christmas Eve, right?” Marinette asked. She glanced at the cheery card propped up on her coffee maker, the one featuring a child’s drawing of La Befana. She wasn’t entirely certain, because Nonna had said the cards were from a charity for a local children’s hospital featuring drawings by the patients, but Marinette would swear it was one of the pictures she had drawn for Gina when she was a little girl. The card wasn’t really what was important, though: what made it special to Marinette was the recipe written on the inside flap.
The secret family recipe for Gina Dupain’s infamous eggnog, to be precise.
She had been begging Gina for the recipe for ages, and it seemed this was the year her nonna was finally willing to trust her with it.
It’s only fair, Gina had written on the other side of the card, since I cannot make it to any of the festivities this year. I never even told your Papa the recipe, and how could I deprive my little fairy her favorite drink on Christmas?
It was going to be perfect. It had to be.
…even if she had to make a thousand test batches to make sure of it!
“Of course,” Luka’s voice came from the speaker on her phone. She glanced over her shoulder, to where it was lying on the opposite counter. “Jay’s trying to get one more show in before our flight, but I should be back in the city on the twenty-third.”
“…oh?” she asked, perking up slightly. “What time?”
“Not that early, I’m afraid,” he chuckled, like he could see her deflating at his words. “It’ll be ok. I’ll see you at the party.”
“Yeah…” she sighed. “I could…I could spend the night on the boat. Or you could…y’know. Crash here. Instead. If…if you wanted.”
She was only kind of joking.
A little.
Not really, though…and from Luka’s answering silence, she had a feeling he knew it.
“That…should be a conversation for when I’m actually home, don’t you think?” he asked after a long moment. She sighed and looked back to her recipe, trying to convince herself the sudden burning in her sinuses was the cold and not something silly like crying over Luka.
After all, she had no reason to cry over Luka. Not anymore. As unwilling as he was to discuss things like them and their future over the phone, he had at least assured her of that much.
“Sorry,” she sniffed, hoping he hadn’t heard the sniffle as she hastily wiped at her eyes. “I just…I miss you.”
“I know,” he said, and was it her imagination or did he sound as sad as she felt? “I miss you, too. More than you…we’ll talk. We will talk. Once I’m back in the city.”
“Yeah…” she said, nodding as she turned and leaned against the counter. She smiled at the phone like he could actually see her. “I know. Once you’re back…”
Because he hadn’t been.
In forever.
He had left Paris when she was fifteen, and it hadn’t been safe for him to even entertain coming back until she was almost eighteen – and he had been just about to board his plane when the new ‘Hawkmoth’ – or Monarch, as Lila had wanted to be called – had struck. He’d called her from the airport, where he had seen the coverage of Monarch’s first attack, and she hadn’t even let him confirm what she already knew he’d been preparing to say before she’d hung up on him.
She’d regretted it, later. And she had apologized. But only after she had cried herself to sleep, hating that Paris was still so…Luka-less.
It hadn’t taken her as long to bring Monarch down, but she was still almost twenty by the time Lila was in jail, and Luka…Luka hadn’t even pretended he was coming back that time. He had already started touring with Jagged by then, though somehow he had managed to convince his dad to leave his favorite city out of every schedule.
She was twenty-one before Luka stepped foot back on Parisian soil, and that trip…it hardly counted. It had been so fast, and Jay had been headlining the city’s New Year’s Eve celebration to boot. She’d barely caught half a minute alone with him all night, and even then…the champagne had made her braver, at least, and she had made that half a minute at midnight count.
“…sorry,” she breathed against his lips when she pulled away. He was staring at her, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Gobsmacked, she thought. She’d left him gobsmacked. “I just…wanted you to know. Still…”
“Mari, I…please don’t do this,” he’d choked out, his voice sounding so strange compared to the levity that had filled it the rest of the night. But his hands were on her waist, and he was holding her so tightly…she watched his throat move as he swallowed, shaking his head. “Not now. Not yet.”
Because it wasn’t that he didn’t return her feelings. That he didn’t still want her – ache for her, he had breathed into her neck as he’d held her close. It was just…timing. Just like their story always seemed to be, she remembered thinking. He was flying back out as soon as the party was over, and he refused to start something he couldn’t see through. It wasn’t fair to either of them, he’d claimed.
It had made sense at the time.
Now, at twenty-two and preparing for her first Christmas with him in eight years, it just felt stupid. She should have fought him on the matter.
Long distance wouldn’t have been that bad, would it have? Especially when she had a kwami who could portal her halfway across the world with enough of a bribe?
“Jules said you’re making something special,” he said, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. “I might be more excited for that than I am about seeing my family. You can’t tell them that, of course, but I’ve really missed your cooking.”
“Of course I won’t tell them that – do you think I want to break the Captain’s heart?” she said, giggling as he laughed on the other end. He muttered something about because everyone knows the Queen of Darkness doesn’t have one, and her smile grew. “You’re in for a real treat, Couffaine. I finally got my hands on a secret family recipe.”
“Really?” he laughed. “I’m amazed Tom had any secrets left.”
“It wasn’t Papa’s secret,” she hummed. “It was Nonna’s.”
“No…” he gasped, and she could almost see the stupid smile that had to be spreading on his face. “Gina’s eggnog? Really?”
“Why don’t you get your butt home and see?” she sniffed. “Christmas Eve, Luka. Six o’clock sharp. I’ll have a glass chilling for you.”
“You’re the best, Marinette,” he laughed, and her smile felt a little easier at the sound. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
– V –
Except the world didn’t seem very keen on that idea, if anything that happened next was any proof of things.
What happened next being a massive ice storm that delayed Luka’s flight.
What happened next also being Fang eating his charger when his stupid mobile only had like twelve percent left on it.
…and what happened next also also being Jagged laughing it off, reassuring him he’d text Marinette himself so she wouldn’t worry, then flaking out completely forgetting to send said text once Penny got him alone and hit him with some last-minute details for New Year’s Eve plans.
Which is what found Marinette, decked out in her prettiest green-with-gold-sparkles velvet dress, nearly dropping the box holding two gallons of freshly-made eggnog (and an assortment of Christmas cookies she insisted on bringing, even if Juleka and the Captain had both insisted her presence – and the nog – was more than enough) straight into the Seine at five-thirty Christmas Eve.
“…he’s not here?” she asked, her eyes going wide at Juleka’s sympathetic face. “But…but…”
“He will be,” Juleka rushed to reassure her. “He’s already back in the air, Mari. He’s coming straight here from the airport – he’ll be here. Penny’ll get a police escort if she has to. He’ll make it.”
…the idea of Penny Rolling hauling Roger Raincomprix out of bed (where she knew for a fact he was, as he had told her he would be when he’d picked up his family’s Bûche de Noël from the bakery that morning) to escort Luka Couffaine to the Liberty on Christmas Eve was laughable, but even that wasn’t enough to make Marinette smile. Not when she was early and he was late and Paris was still Luka-less.
“Come on,” Rose said, smiling encouragingly at her as she took the crate from her arms. “Why don’t you help me finish setting up? It’ll all be fine – and he’s gonna love your dress! You look like a Christmas tree – oooh, or a present! I bet Luka can’t wait to unwrap his gift this year!”
And it was a testament to how much Luka’s delay had thrown Marinette, because she didn’t even blush or scold Rose for the comment or anything – even when Juleka was calling after her to cut it out, that’s my brother, don’t be gross! She followed Rose over to the tables set up along the rail in silence, looking like she had just been told Christmas had been outright cancelled instead of just delayed. Anarka was at the tables, busy arrange the food and drinks for the night and looking a bit like a Christmas tree herself, with her old greatcoat decked out in tinsel and baubles that jingled as she moved. She’d even wrapped a string of twinkle lights around herself, the battery pack sticking out of her pocket.
“Och, Marinette!” she cried when they approached. “Ye be early, lass! I thought I told ye ye were t’be a guest tonight?”
She placed her hands on her hips and leveled a good-natured glare at Marinette, who just looked forlornly towards the gate.
“…Luka was supposed to be here,” she said softly. Anarka and Rose shared a look, and once Rose had set the crate down on the table she pulled Marinette into a tight hug.
“And he will be,” she said. “He’s just running late, Mari. He’s still coming.”
“God himself couldnae keep m’b’y away,” Anarka said, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. Marinette gave them a weak smile, and Anarka let out a booming laugh as she looked at the crate. “And what be this? The famous eggnog I be hearing so much about?”
A small smile appeared on Marinette’s face as Anarka pulled a bottle from the crate, popped off the lid, and gave the drink a sniff. She ducked her head and tucked some hair behind her ear, missing the frown that flickered across the Captain’s face.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Nonna finally trusted me with her recipe – it’s the best.”
“Aye, I remember,” Anarka said. She snatched up a cup and poured a bit. She grinned at Marinette as she raised it to her lips. “I must confess, I was a wee bit disappointed t’hear ol’ Gina would be missin’ the festivities. Her eggnog be…”
She took a sip, and she paused as she frowned at the glass. Rose giggled and looped her arms through Marinette’s.
“The best, right? At least we have a little piece of her with us, even if she can’t be here herself, right?” she asked, and Marinette nodded. Her smile grew a little bit more.
“Right,” she said. She turned back to Anarka, who was staring at her cup thoughtfully. When she caught Marinette looking at her, she quickly put the cup on the table and slapped a wide grin on her face. “Do you need any help setting up, Captain? Since…since I got here so early?”
“Nonsense, m’dear,” Anarka said, waving her off. “Ye be a guest. Go. Do…guesty things.”
“C’mon,” Rose said, squeezing her arm. “You can help me pick the playlist!”
And Marinette nodded, smiling as she let Rose lead her away from Anarka and the refreshments.
And that…was probably her first mistake of the night.
Because as she was walking away, leaving Anarka unattended with the food and drink, the Captain took another sip of her eggnog. She tapped a ruby-tipped finger against her chin as she swished the drink around her mouth, letting the flavor settle over tongue. And it was good, to be sure, but something just seemed…off about it. Gina’s eggnog was famous – or maybe infamous – and one of those drinks that just…stuck with you, even years later. And Marinette’s attempt at recreating the recipe was good, aye, but…there was something off about it.
Something missing…
“…poor lass,” Anarka said as she reached for one of the disposable punch bowls Rose had picked up for the party and poured both bottles into it. She considered the assortment of bottles lined up along the back of the table, then grinned as she snatched up the bottle of Tobermory her sister had sent her for the holiday. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Marinette was sufficiently distracted then tipped a splash into the bowl. After a moment’s consideration, she tipped a splash more. She ladled some more into her cup, then grinned before adding a bit more of the Tobermory to her own drink. “That’s better. Suppose it cannae be helped, having a lightweight handle the nog…”
Behind her, the speakers roared to life with an electric cover of Carol of the Bells, and she gave a whoop as she moved along the table to finish arranging the charcuterie.
“Aye, that be the spirit, lads!” she cheered. “Now the festivities can truly begin!”
As it drew closer to six and the official start of the party, more of their guests began to arrive. Tom and Sabine turned up maybe fifteen minutes after Marinette, and after saying their initial hellos Sabine sent Tom over to the refreshments table to get them some drinks.
“Papa!” Marinette called from where she was sitting with Rose, Juleka, and some old friends from Sant-Saëns. “Make sure you try the eggnog – it’s Nonna’s recipe!”
Tom barked out a laugh and clapped his hands together.
“No! How did you ever get her to cough that up, mon choux?” he laughed as he hurried over to the table. Marinette was distracted by the arrival of Ivan and Mylène, so she missed the look that passed over her father’s face when he took his first sip of the infamous eggnog. As Anarka had before him, he took a moment to stare at his cup, considering the drink and trying to figure out what was off about it. Marinette had remembered the alcohol – something he had been sure she would have forgotten, given her stance on drinking – but it still seemed…had she added the right kind? Not enough?
Not wanting his little girl to feel disheartened on Christmas, especially when people would inevitably start commenting how Marinette’s eggnog wasn’t quite up to Gina’s standards, he cast a quick glance around, to make sure everyone was otherwise occupied, and snatched up the closest bottle of brandy from the assortment of bottles near the bowl. He uncapped it and drained a measure into the bowl, eyeing the drink critically to make sure he didn’t add too much. He gave it a quick stir to mix the alcohol in, and then he ladled out another cup to test it.
“So? What do you think? Does it pass inspection?” Marinette asked. He jumped and handed her his first drink, smiling encouragingly as they clinked glasses and each took a sip. He nodded in approval. It still wasn’t quite how his mother made it (Gina had always been a little heavy-handed with the nog), but it was better.
Better enough that no one should be too critical once they’d had a few glasses, at least…
“You did splendidly, mon choux,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Your Nonna would be proud.”
Marinette beamed up at him before leaning in to kiss his cheek, and then she was dashing off as Myléne called her away. He let out a relieved little sigh, pleased with himself for saving his little girl from any potential embarrassment – and then Sabine was calling him back for their drinks, and he walked away from the table whistling, the near-disaster slipping clear from his mind.
And then Dingo and Brielle arrived late, after…quite a few delays, and as Brielle joined the girls by the rail Dingo stomped over to the drinks, grumbling all the while. It hadn’t been the worst night – part of why they had been late had been really, really great, thank you very much, except the great had followed two hours of arguing over bullshit and then been followed by half an hour caught up in traffic and holiday bullshit and more arguing. At the promise of eggnog, or anything that would get him good and numb, really, he quickly dished out a cup – then gagged it down when it barely burned.
“You ok, Ding?” Ivan asked as he walked over.
“Who the shit makes eggnog and doesn’t drown it in hooch?” Dingo asked, grabbing a bottle of rum from the assortment on the table. Ivan’s eyebrows lifted as he dumped at least a quarter of the bottle into the bowl. “Don’t they know the whole point of eggnog is to make you numb?”
“Marinette made it,” Ivan said. “It’s…a pretty big deal, actually. You sure you should’ve added that much?”
“Pfft, figures,” Dingo grumped, using the ladle to give the bowl a good stir. “I love her to death, but baby girl is a lightweight. ‘Course she made it weak as shit.”
“I thought it was pretty good,” Ivan said, shrugging. Dingo poured himself another cup, and he grinned as that one went down smoother.
“So much better,” he said. He handed Ivan his cup. Ivan took it warily and proceeded to choke on the sip he’d taken. Dingo laughed and clapped a hand against his back as he took the drink back. “See? Now that’s eggnog!”
Ivan watched him saunter off, a feeling of unease in his gut – but then he was being called over for a round of caroloke, and the unease was forgotten as he got caught up in a round of 12 Days of Christmas.
Now, for her part, Marinette hadn’t really noticed any of this. She had been decently distracted most of the night, and when her friends weren’t distracting her – and even when they were – she was mostly keeping her eyes either on the gangway or her phone. With every new arrival – every non-Luka arrival – her spirits seemed to drop, and her phone remained agonizingly void of any messages. Which made sense, she had to remind herself, if he was in the air. And everyone had assured her that he was on his way, and even if he didn’t make it for the party…or Christmas…he was still coming home, and wasn’t that what really mattered?
…except she had wanted to see him now. On Christmas. Because Christmas was a time for magic and miracles and second chances, and all she really wanted…
So it wasn’t all that long before the first glass of eggnog her papa had given her disappeared, and it wasn’t long after that that she found herself fetching another glass. And she tried nibbling on some cookies, and Juleka had tried to share some of her charcuterie with her, but Marinette wasn’t really hungry. And as her friends continued to chat around her, she continued to stare miserably at the gangway, and time continued to tick by.
The party was well underway by the time Rose was sick of it.
“She’s moping,” she huffed as she stomped over to the refreshments to refill her own drink. She wasn’t the biggest fan of eggnog – the dairy tended to be too thick for her sinuses, and she’d already been fighting off a cold most of the week – so she had stuck to the cranberry-flavored fizzy punch Juleka had mixed up earlier. “She’s miserable, and she’s not having any fun, and by the time Luka finally gets here she’s gonna be all…oh, Grinch-afied!”
“…by the time Luka gets here, her mood will completely flip,” Juleka sniffed. She ladled up a cup of eggnog and took a sip, frowning as she looked at Rose. “The only reason she’s miserable, Ro, is because he’s not here yet. She’ll be fine.”
“She needs to be happy, Juleka,” Rose sniffed. “Otherwise she’ll be all mopey, and my perfect, romantic Christmas reunion will be ruined because she’ll be too busy ugly crying instead of kissing him!”
“…ew,” Juleka said, her nose scrunching at the very thought. “I mean, you’re right, and I want that, too, but I don’t want to see – or think – about it. Gross.”
“Hey, guys, is there more eggnog?” Brielle asked as she walked up. “Mari’s still…I was hoping it might cheer her up a bit.”
“…yes!” Rose said, snapping her fingers as she handed her drink to Juleka. She grabbed a random bottle from the selection of booze, uncapped it, and poured a bit into the remaining eggnog. After a moment’s consideration, she added a bit more. Juleka’s eyebrows soared as she watched her.
“…babe,” she said, shaking her head. “Is that…do you think that’s really smart? It was already pretty strong, and Mari’s had a few glasses already. You know she can’t hold her liquor.”
“Please, I had a sip of yours earlier – she’ll be fine!” Rose huffed. She scooped up a cup and handed it to Brielle with a grin. “This is just what the doctor ordered! Well. Nurse, as it is. It’ll cheer Marinette right up!”
Brielle raised the cup to her nose and sniffed, pulling a face when the heavily-spiced scent hit her. She looked at Rose, uncertain.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Marinette doesn’t usually drink this much. Or…you know…at all.”
Which was true. The last time Marinette had attempted drinking during a Girl’s Night, she’d barely had two shots before she was leaving a long, drunken voicemail on Luka’s phone that…honestly, probably would have gotten his ass back in the city months sooner. If Brielle hadn’t caught her and deleted the damn thing before it could save.
That, some incriminating photos of table dancing, and a killer hangover the next morning found Marinette swearing off alcohol for the foreseeable future (or the rest of her life, she wasn’t really picky).
Rose had apparently forgotten all of that in her quest to raise her spirits.
“Oh, she’ll be fine!” she said again. She snatched the cup from Brielle and waved them off. “Trust me – I’m a professional!”
“…this is so gonna end well,” Juleka sighed, sipping her drink. Brielle nodded before getting her own cup. She hummed after sipping it.
“Yep,” she said, nodding. “Damn good eggnog, though.”
Juleka sighed as she took another sip of her own. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t deny that Brielle was right. It was damn good eggnog…
– V –
And because the world was just determined to keep on hating Luka Couffaine…or maybe because the universe is just a bit of a sadistic bitch…by the time Luka actually touched down in Paris, got off the damn plane, sorted his luggage, found a cab, and crawled through so much fucking traffic (it was Christmas Eve – weren’t people supposed to be home, not out on the roads?), the party – and the bowl of eggnog – was almost completely over.
Not that any of that really mattered to him by that point. By the time he saw the glittering lights of the Liberty floating on the Seine, Luka was exhausted. And cran…ok. More than a little cranky. He was closer to pissed off, but he was trying his best to keep a firm grip on it. Even if the city wasn’t under constant threat from psychopaths intent on weaponizing your emotions against you anymore, he still didn’t want to be pissed off on Christmas. When he was supposed to see his family for the first time in…and Marinette. He didn’t want to be cranky when he finally saw her again.
Besides.
Shit happens.
It’s not like there was…well. As far as he knew, this time it was just shitty weather. There was no supervillain or ice power-wielding hero that had caused the storm that had delayed his flight. And airports notoriously sucked at the holidays – he had gotten out as fast as he could. And the traffic…well, he was just having a crappy day. Why not add holiday traffic on top of it all?
It was no one’s fault that he had missed his family’s annual Christmas Eve party.
…with Marinette.
There was always next year, right? And it was just Christmas Eve – they still had tomorrow! They still had actual Christmas! And Hogmanay! And all the days in between, because he was staying in the damn city this time.
At least for the foreseeable future.
…it was probably too much to hope that that glass of eggnog Marinette had promised was still chilling for him, he thought as he climbed out of the cab and grabbed his bag. He handed the driver his fare and wished him a joyeux noel before grabbing his guitar case, and as the cab drove off he turned to face his childhood home. It was well after ten, but he could still see some people milling about the deck, even if it looked like most of the guests had gone home for the night. He could still hear the music playing and see the lights twinkling. He could still smell the too-much-cinnamon Rose was undoubtedly responsible over the distinct smell of the river on the breeze.
He hadn’t missed all of Christmas Eve, at least, he thought with a bittersweet smile. And they’d still have Christmas. He hoisted his guitar onto his back, slung his duffel over his shoulder, and made his way aboard. It was fine. It was fine. It would all be…
“LUKA!!!!!!”
Marinette’s shout hit him seconds before her body crashed into his, before he could even say hello or announce his presence. He stumbled back, dropping his duffel and wincing as his guitar clanged against the rail – but at least they hadn’t gone overboard. He looked down at the mop of dark hair tucked against his chest, his throat going dry as her arms tightened around him. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, but they stayed there only a moment before he was curling around her to pull her closer. He held her tight, tucking his face against her neck as a feeling of home and finally washed over him.
It was peace.
Peace he hadn’t felt since…
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, one of his hands sliding up her back and along her neck to sink into her hair. She hummed, nuzzling her face against his chest, and his breath caught when her icy fingers wiggled their way under his jacket – and his hoodie, and the shirt underneath – to dance along his back. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re here,” she said, pressing her cheek against his chest. “You made it.”
“Barely,” he chuckled. He pulled back, just enough to see her beautiful face smiling up at him, and that was when he paused. There was something…off about the smile she was giving him. The sheen to her eyes. The way those eyes couldn’t seem to actually focus on him.
The way they were kinda moving like there were three of him.
“…Marinette,” he started, his brow furrowing as he studied her. A giggle escaped her as she reached up, her hand unsteady as she tried to press a thumb between his eyebrows – to smooth out that frown – and nearly poked him in the eye instead. He caught her wrist, his frown deepening. “Are you…are you all right?”
“I’m great,” she hummed, wiggling her hand until her fingers were locked around his. She gave them a squeeze that didn’t feel as strong as it usually was. “So great, now that you’re here.”
She leaned in closer, which…wasn’t really possible, with how close she already was – and only made him lean back against the rail a bit, which made his guitar dig painfully into his back, which…suddenly didn’t seem all that important, with so much Marinette against him.
It was…more than a little distracting How much Marinette he could feel, even through the layers of his coat and hoodie and…he hadn’t gotten that great a look at her outfit, but all things considered she looked woefully underdressed. For the weather.
…and his poor…brain.
“Luka…” she whispered, her eyes going wide – and it was impossible to miss how…glassy they looked. There was a haze there, something more than holiday cheer and glittering lights. “You…are late.”
She hiccoughed.
Or burped.
Or something, right in the middle of her statement, that made the breath hitting his face just a little bit stronger, and it was also impossible to miss the distinct spiced scent of that breath. His eyes widened as he stared down at her, at her wide, glassy eyes and dopey smile and was that bourbon-laced breath and…and…
“Marinette, are you…” he paused and shook his head, the very thought unbelievable (absurd!), but there was no denying the very obvious, very inebriated proof of it standing (leaning) before (against) him. “…are you drunk?”
“Wha?” she asked, perking up to blink owlishly at him. She laughed and shook her head, then winced and slumped against him as that seemed to make her dizzy. “Pffft…nooooo…you know I don’ drink, dum…dum-dummy.”
“…oh my God, you are,” he said, shaking his head as he tried to steady her. He would even wager that she wasn’t just drunk – she was downright wasted. “Who the hell let you drink?”
“I didn’!” she huffed. “Alls I had was egg…” she paused, her eyes widening as she gasped: “…the eggnog!”
She grabbed the lapels of his coat and jumped, or tried to. It was more of an unsteady bounce, and he was quick to grab her arms to steady her when it nearly swept her feet out from under her.
“The eggnog! Lu…Lu, you gotta try it!” she cried. “I did so good! So good! You got…you got…c’mon!”
She spun away from him and tried to take a step towards the refreshments table, but that seemed like more coordination than she was capable of in the moment. She overbalanced and fell back, her arms pinwheeling as she tried to catch herself on thin air.
“Whoa!” he cried, catching her before she could land on her ass. Her head tipped back, dropping against his chest as she stared up at him. “Easy, Mari. You’re…”
“M’fine,” she breathed, blinking at him. Her brow furrowed as she tried to stand back up and only managed to slump more against him. “…m’feet are dumb, though.”
There was an indelicate snort near them, and he looked up to find Juleka and Rose hovering nearby. Dingo and Brielle were still there, as well, but they had stayed by the stage while the other two had come closer – though both were watching them closely (Dingo with a shit-eating grin and shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed laughter, Bri with slightly more concern). He could also see his ma and Sabine talking by the prow, but Tom was passed out against the railing between them, his head tipped back as he snored. It looked like everyone else had cleared out for the evening.
Marinette was trying to stand again, and he tightened his grip on her to hold her in place.
“Easy, Mari,” he said. “Your feet are…dumb, remember?”
“So dumb,” she sighed, dropping her head back against his chest. She blinked up at him before another giggle escaped her. “Hey, you.”
And despite it all…he had to smile at that. He bent down, pressing his forehead to hers, and smiled.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Why don’t we get you to a chair? Or bed? I think you’ve had enough for one night.”
“Bed sounds so good,” she sighed. “Jules said so, but I had to wait for Luka – he’s late, you know.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“But you’re here now,” she hummed. “And Jules…Julesie said Go to bed, Mari…Mariette, but I was not gon’ go before Luka got here. You’s sooooo late.”
“Oh my God, that is not becoming a thing…” Juleka grumbled as Rose snickered Julesie. Luka shot them both a Look before looking back down at Marinette.
“But I’m here now,” he said, “so maybe we can get you to bed now?”
“Mmmm, sounds good,” she said, nodding. “You took forever.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t go,” she said, locking her fingers around his forearm. She blinked up at him. “If…if I gotta go. You don’t…you…st…stay?”
Her eyes were starting to droop, and she was having more trouble piecing her thoughts together and getting her words out. It might have been adorable, if it hadn’t worried him so much.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen her drunk before. Certainly not this drunk.
He only knew of one time she had been, and that…no one had been willing to give him any details about that night. Juleka and Brielle had both assured him it hadn’t been that bad, but whatever had happened had left Marinette embarrassed enough that she refused to speak of the evening ever again.
He wondered if she’d view tonight the same way.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mari,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Not again. Not for a long while.”
“Thank…thank good…thank you,” she sighed. She squeezed his arms, her face pinching in distress. “Lu. Lu. I don’…I don’ think I can walk.”
He bit down on a smile, because it wasn’t funny. Not really. His sister wasn’t as successful.
“Here,” she snickered, holding out a hand. He looked up to find she already had his tour bag slung over her shoulder. “Give me your guitar. You get her. You’re right: it’s high time her drunk ass crashed for the night.”
“Thanks,” he said, shrugging off the case and handing it over. He dipped to slip an arm under Marinette’s knees, and she let out a whooping laugh as he scooped her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she groaned as she laid her head on his shoulder. He frowned as he looked down at her. “How much has she had, Jules?”
“More than she can handle, obviously,” she sighed. “I thought only one glass of the strong stuff, but someone made that cup extra strong.”
She glanced back at Rose with an annoyed scowl. She was worrying her lip behind them.
“I’m so sorry, Luka,” she said. “I didn’t think…I thought it would help. She wasn’t having any fun, and I just wanted her to have some fun, and…”
“Dumb,” Marinette grumbled. “Can’t have fun without Luka. Can’t…don’t feel good…”
“I’ll get her below,” he sighed. He gave the others a tight smile. “It is good to see you guys.”
“We’ll catch up later,” Juleka said, directing him towards the door that led deeper into the boat. “Go take care of her. She’s gonna be feeling this in the morning, I’m sure.”
…he was, too.
So much for their merry Christmas.
He slipped below without saying anything to the others (he nodded when his ma raised a glass, and rolled his eyes when Dingo shouted something rude). Marinette’s remaining energy seemed to have fled her, and by the time he reached his old bunk she was half asleep. Juleka followed them down, but only long enough to drop his bags by the wall. Setting Marinette in the bed was easy enough, but getting her to let go was another matter entirely.
“No…” she groaned, her fingers twisting in his collar. “You said…said you’d stay.”
“I will,” he said. He kissed her forehead, and her next hum was happier. “I just want to get some water.”
And some paracetamol. And maybe a bucket. He had a feeling she’d be needing all of them by morning.
“Luka?” she mumbled, sighing as she finally settled.
“Yeah?” he asked. He reached out to brush her bangs out of her face, and she smiled at the gentle touch.
“M’really…really glad you’re home,” she sighed.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling as he bent to press another lingering kiss to her forehead. “Me, too.”
– V –
He slipped back upstairs once she was out, but not for long. Just to make his appearances, really.
“How is she?” Sabine asked as he approached what was left of the party. He shrugged, and she sighed as she stood and pulled him into a hug. “How are you?”
“I think we both could be better,” he said, chuckling weakly as he returned her hug. “Hey, Sabine. I’m surprised you and Tom are still here. Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”
“It’s Christmas, Luka. We never work on Christmas day, and even if we did…I’d be making the executive decision to shut our doors and extend our holiday one more day after you showed up so late,” she said, smiling at him. She tossed him a wink. “…and after Tom started his third drunken round of Un Flambeau. Besides, he refused to leave before he saw you, and once he fell asleep…well, I’m certainly not carrying him home.”
Luka couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up at that, nor could Anarka. At the sound of his ma’s laugh, he turned to smile at her.
“Hey, Ma,” he said. She pushed herself up and waved him over with a jingle of her festive sleeve.
“Don’t ye be hey, ma-ing me, b’y,” she said. “Get yer scrawny arse over here and give yer auld ma a hug!”
“Of course, Ma,” he laughed as he left Sabine’s side to properly greet his ma. She let out a whooping laugh as he scooped her up, clapping him on the back and chiding him to put her down a’fore ye break one o’ us, b’y! She was beaming at him once he set her down, though, and for the life of him he couldn’t tell if the twinkle in her eye was from mischief or the eggnog (or both). “Ma…”
“Am I t’be expecting ye t’stay, then, or will ye be gone with first light?” she asked. He rolled his eyes.
“You know I’m staying in the city,” he said. “We talked –”
“Nah, mate, she means Mari going off about you moving in with her,” Dingo snickered. Luka barely had time to process his words before he was pulling him into a hug. Dingo squeezed him tight before digging his knuckles into his head. “Asshole. Gonna say hi to everyone but me?”
“He hasn’t said hi to me yet,” Rose sniffed.
“Or me,” Brielle drawled. Luka gave them both weak smiles, but Brielle just sipped her wine and stared at him. “We’re just chopped liver, Rose.”
“You got Marinette drunk,” Luka said, shoving Dingo off of him and slipping past to give Brielle a hug. She snorted as she patted his back, but he was looking (glaring) at Rose. “I don’t know if I want to say hi to you.”
“It was an accident!” Rose cried. “Don’t be mean, Luka!”
“Och, go easy on the lass,” Anarka said. “She not be the only one at fault here.”
“Huh?” Luka asked. Anarka handed him a cup, and he raised his eyebrows.
“Marinette said we were t’save ye a glass,” she said. Luka sniffed the cup, recoiling as the scent of…what even was that? Anarka laughed at his face. “She said she followed Gina’s recipe, but the drink was…lacking. I added some whiskey from the auld country t’help.”
“Tom said the same,” Sabine sighed. “Marinette had already told me she wasn’t planning on adding any alcohol, as she figured the Captain would have plenty of selection for people to add if they wished, but Tom was worried she’d be upset that it didn’t taste like Gina’s. That people would notice and comment.”
“Because Gina drowns it in bourbon,” Juleka said. Dingo winced as he dropped back onto the crate next to Brielle.
“Yeeeeah…I maybe added some, too,” he confessed. “Like almost half a bottle. Sorry, mate.”
“You what?” Rose gasped. “But…oh, no wonder it was so much stronger! I added more based on what Tom had added!”
“…how the fuck are any of you still standing?” Brielle asked, blinking at them all.
“Pirates,” the others answered, and then laughed helplessly because honestly. What else could you do?
Luka handed the eggnog – which he still hadn’t actually tasted – over to Dingo, who downed it in one swig. Brielle’s nose curled as she watched him.
“I am not kissing you tonight,” she said. Dingo grinned at her.
“We’ll see,” he said, blowing her a kiss that had her nose curling again when his breath hit her. He turned back to Luka, his grin still wide. “So! Lulu! The question still stands: you done running yet?”
“I wasn’t…” Luka started, but when more than one set of eyes leveled on him he sighed and looked at his feet. He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “…yeah, Ding. I’m done running.”
“Ye’ve always a home here, b’y,” Anarka said, pulling him into another hug. “Though I dare say yer home might be needin’ t’be elsewhere now?”
“That…is a conversation for later,” he said, looking back at his feet. “But…maybe. I hope.”
“There’s no hoping required, dear,” Sabine said, laying a hand on his arm. “All you have to do is say yes. Now, as happy as we all are to see you, you do look awful. Why don’t you go get some sleep? We’ll all be here tomorrow.”
“Speak for yourself,” Juleka sniffed. “I’m not sharing a room with them. Ew. Rose, take me home?”
“Take me home,” Rose giggled, smacking a kiss against Juleka’s cheek. She rushed over to Luka, determined to get at least one hug from him before they hit the road. “Call us later! We can do brunch!”
“Anarka, do you mind if we…?” Sabine asked as Luka hugged Juleka, but then he was joining them as they walked towards the gangway. Rose stole one more hug before they parted ways, waving as he headed back below.
“O’ course,” he heard his ma say. “Ye can sleep below, but we’ve extra blankets t’keep Tom warm if he be sleepin’ above.”
Luka shook his head as he jogged down the steps. He would hate to be Tom in the morning, between the hangover, the cold, and the sore neck he was bound to have from sleeping like that. Hopefully they’d be able to wake him before they retired for the night…
Any lingering thoughts of their family left him once he was back in his bunk and saw Marinette curled up in his bed. He dropped two bottles on the amp by her head – water and paracetamol – kicked off his shoes, and climbed in beside her. He’d barely reached for her before she was cuddling against him, his name a happy sigh on her lips.
…he was home, he thought as he curled around her. And he had no intention of leaving again for a good, long while.
– V –
A few days later found Luka in her…their kitchen, his arms around her waist and chin propped on her shoulder as he watched her temper eggs with the cream warming on the stove.
“I can’t believe you’re making more,” he chuckled, shaking his head. The motion caused his hair to poke into her ear, tickling her, and she giggled as she tried to shrug him off.
“Stop,” she said, pouting at him. “This is a very delicate process. You don’t want scrambled nog, do you?”
“I don’t want any nog,” he pointed out. “Nog was what found you puking most of my first day back, remember?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groaned, dropping her head back against his shoulder. “Our first Christmas together in how long? And I ruined it. So much wasted time hugging a toilet when I should have been hugging you.”
“We’re making up for it,” he said, kissing her neck. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that she almost missed, focusing on the egg mixture like she was. “Which is why I ask again: do you really want more eggnog?”
“The eggnog wasn’t the problem,” she huffed. She squirmed against him, and he hummed as he held her just a bit tighter. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow. “Luka. As much as I’m enjoying this, I have to put this back on the stove. I have to watch the thermometer so it doesn’t overheat. You will get hurt if you don’t let go.”
“I don’t want to,” he murmured, kissing her neck again. She shivered as his nose skimmed along the slope to her shoulder, and he smiled against her skin. “I’m never letting go again, remember?”
…she remembered. Oh, how she remembered…the only benefit to being too hungover to do anything that first day meant they’d had plenty of time to talk. And plan. And he’d maybe taken her to their home once she was stable enough, and he’d maybe even called Penny while she slept off the worst of the headache to have the rest of his bags sent there instead of the boat.
Because he wasn’t going to be leaving again.
Not unless she came with him.
“It will take like five minutes,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “Please? It’ll be worth it. I promise. You know it’s good eggnog.”
“I know it made you royally sick,” he said, but he stepped back all the same. When she could reach him easier, she leaned up on her tiptoes to peck a kiss against his lips before moving back to the stove.
“Which is exactly my point,” she said. “You didn’t get any. I didn’t even get any, not really. Every cup they gave me was contaminated.”
“Well, you did say it was Gina’s recipe,” he chuckled. She hummed, but her focus was on the thermometer. “They were just trying to help. In their own misguided way.”
“No more alcohol, Luka,” she said, her nose curling at the thought. “Like…ever. The eggnog can stay, though.”
Much later, after the eggnog had been chilling for hours and Marinette finally deemed it acceptable, they were enjoying their (non-alcoholic) drinks as Elf played in the background. And Luka had to concede that, even if it wasn’t exactly how Gina would make it, it was still some damn good eggnog.
And sure.
He supposed it could stay.