The ramblings of a Nut who should be doing something else – Adelaide, South Australia

A little Warm Rain at Christmas

My muse is rebelling…told you I couldn’t tell it what to do ::sigh::

So it wrote this. Like I need to start something new? ::headdesk:: Also, this is for @vegetacide for being the wonderful person she is 😀

It was isolated. It was nowhere.

It was snowing.

Virgil warmed the milk in a saucepan and stared out at the carpet of white outside. The air was still, frozen, but he wouldn’t have known it standing next to the old stove. On the far side of the one roomed building, a fire crackled away happily. In front of that source of warmth sat Kay, cross legged, sharpening one of her knives.

He arched an eyebrow, smiling.

She was dressed in a goofy Christmas jumper, gifted to her by Grandma last Christmas, and a pair of jeggings. Her hair was still damp from her shower and hung loose around her shoulders, a rarity which he cherished.

Don’t burn the milk, Virgil. His father’s voice, echoed in the back of his skull from that damned camping trip eons ago.

He still boiled it, only rescuing it just in time.

Kay was distracting.

Pouring it into two mugs, he mixed in the drinking chocolate and dropped a couple of marshmallows in for good measure.

This trip had been a spur of the moment. It wasn’t quite Christmas, still a couple of days before, but he had wanted to get away for just a day or two, to share some private moments between himself and his fiancé, before the full on craziness of the Tracy family tradition set in.

After all this was their first Christmas as engaged, and likely the last as unmarried.

Something warm stirred in his heart.

Putting the two mugs on a tray, he carefully stepped around the sofa and placed them on the coffee table that had been pushed to one side. A thick faux fur rug was spread across the floor in front of the fire and it was soft under his bare feet.

“I honestly don’t know how you can walk around in bare feet in this weather, Virgil.”

Kay was staring up at him through her eyelashes.

He folded himself down beside her, careful to give space to the knife that was still being sharpened. He shrugged. “It’s warm enough inside.” A thought. “Are you warm enough?” A smile, and he held out an arm, obviously offering to share his body heat with a hug.

She continued to look at him, a smile curving her lips. “I guess I could get a little warmer.” She put the knife down, and something inside Virgil relaxed just that little bit more. She sidled over to him and he dropped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in close.

His other arm reached for a mug and offered it to her. She wrapped her fingers around it and smiling up at him, sipped it appreciatively. “You make a good hot chocolate.”

“So I’ve been told.” He sipped his own, snagging the marshmallow before it could completely melt.

“This was a nice idea.” The fire cracked a little louder. “It is so quiet here.”

And that was something that didn’t happen on Tracy Island very often. He hugged her a little tighter. “I just thought we could spend some time together. We have things to talk about that do not include brothers.”

She snorted and he couldn’t help but grin. But then she looked up at him. “Such as?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He smiled. “How about, where would you like to live?”

She uncurled from his embrace and turned to look at him. “On Tracy Island. We couldn’t live anywhere else.”

He had to admit she was right, no matter how much he wanted to give her anything she could possibly want. Quietly. “No, not really.” He tilted his head. “But we don’t have to stay in the villa.”

She stared at him and he realised that it hadn’t even occurred to her that there was always alternatives. “How?”

“Oh, I had an idea that we could build our own little villa on the other side of the island. Perhaps on the cliff above our beach.” He shrugged. “It is adjacent to Thunderbird Two’s hanger. We could set up access points.” He had thought about it quite extensively. Had even drawn up a few plans and thrown it past Brains. “We would still be close, but could have the privacy we would need.”

Her eyes were wide, obviously taken with the possibility, but then her lips curved into a seductive smile. “Oh, so you think we will be needing a lot of privacy, do you?”

He returned the smile, lowering his voice, turning it a little husky. “Oh, yes, definitely.” And he leant over her hot chocolate and kissed her just softly, a tease, before leaning back again and taking a sip from his own mug.

Her eyes danced. “You have a chocolate moustache.”

“Oh really.” A grin. “Does it suit me?” He posed.

“You idiot.” She put down her drink and took his from his hands. “C’mere.”

He leant over and she kissed the milk from his lips. So very, very distracting. His mind blanked a moment as his lost himself to the feel of her soft touch, her tongue…


“I think…” Her voice was soft against his mouth, her breath warm. “…we will need a lot of privacy.” And she smiled.



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