by M. L. Briers
“Well, gee, thanks, George.” Jessica bit back. Then she folded her arms, tipped her head to one side, and offered him the evil eye.
George was glad that she didn’t happen to possess her evil magic. If she had, then he might have dropped dead on the spot. Good for her — bad for him.
“You know, you could work with me here,” George teased.
“Bite your tongue.” She snapped her fingers, but nothing happened. She stomped down again, annoyed that she didn’t have her magic.
“Did Santa steal your magic?” George chuckled.
“It appears so, but the kitchen has a frying pan, and you have a head, be careful, George.” Jessica offered back.
“How very mate like of you,” George chuckled.
Then he put one foot in front of the other and started toward her. Jessica pulled back in mock horror.
“Keep your distance,” Jessica demanded.
“Relax, Princess, I’m just taking a seat.”
George was as good as his word. He threw himself down on the sofa and eyed his mate with amusement.
“Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what?” George asked in all innocence.
“Like you’ve won, and I’ve lost. Like I’m going to mate with you. Like I drew the short straw, and I’m happy about it.”
“Gee, thanks, Jessica, so many pretty pictures you painted there,” George tossed back.
“You know what I mean!” Jessica huffed.
“I do now,” George chuckled.
“George, this is no laughing matter — mates? Us?” Jessica tossed up her hands in frustration and dismay.
“You did tempt fate,” George teased.
“I tempted fate after we came on this mission!” Jessica hissed.
“Your point?”
“The wheels were already in motion, George,” Jessica pointed out the obvious.
“And yet, you still decided to tempt fate,” George shrugged.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” She shrieked.
“Do you get chocolate every time you shriek?”
“What? No.”
“Then can you stop doing it?” George asked.
“Can you get off your backside and do something about this horrible situation that we find ourselves in?”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“What do you suggest?” George asked.
“I don’t bloody well know,” she tossed up her hands and sighed. Then she turned and collapsed onto the sofa beside him.
“Don’t get too close; you may not be able to resist me” George teased.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she grumbled back.
“See, I told you that you liked me you wouldn’t listen,” George chuckled. The moment that her pointy little elbow hit him in the ribs, he wasn’t chuckling anymore.
“See, George, I don’t need my magic to damage you,” Jessica offered back.
~
~
~
George walked up behind Jessica as she sat on a stool at the kitchen counter and looked over her shoulder. There were wrappers everywhere, different colors, different sizes, but all from chocolate.
“You know, chocolate is not a food group,” George offered.
“Yes, George, I’m aware. But, I’m depressed,” Jessica offered with a sigh.
“Not gonna take that personally,” George offered back.
“Please do,” Jessica said as she placed her elbow on the kitchen counter, and cupped her chin in her hand. She sighed again.
“Well, I’m hungry…”
“Leave the chocolate alone,” Jessica snapped.
“I was about to say that I’ll put some food on, real food, that doesn’t involve chocolate,” George chuckled as he walked around the counter and yanked open the refrigerator.
“You cook?” Jessica chuckled.
“Yes, yes I do. Let’s alert the media — the Christmas fairy can cook!” George tossed up his hands with dramatic flair, and she couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Fluffy headed numpty,” she grumbled.
“What exactly is wrong with my hair?” George asked in all seriousness.
He quite liked it. It’s not like he had to style it or anything, he just got out of the shower ran his fingers through it, and done.
“Do you own a brush, George?” She asked.
“I think I own one.”
“You think?”
“Well, I haven’t seen in awhile, so I’m not going to commit to a definite yes.”
“How long is a while?”
“Puberty?” He considered it for a moment and gave a nod.
“That’s what’s wrong with your hair, George.”
“And what about you?” George asked. Jessica narrowed her eyes at him.
“What about me?”
“Don’t you want to know what I find annoying about you?” George asked as she used her fingertips to absently play with the empty wrappers on the countertop.
“No.” Jessica shrugged.
“No?” He teased, and then there was that grin that he offered her annoyed her so.
She’d always liked that grin. Now that she knew why she liked it — she hated fate.
“I don’t need to know what you don’t like about me — what you find annoying — because, I’m not going to change.” She shrugged again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
~
“I didn’t say you had to change. You’re the one telling me I have to change my hair…”
“No, I didn’t!” She snapped back.
“Yes, yes you did.”
“No. No, I didn’t,” Jessica was adamant that she’d never said that in all the time she’d known him.
If anything, she kind of liked his hair, but she’d be flame grilled in the deepest bowels of hell before she was going to admit that.
“Fine — the hair stays,” George shrugged.
“Good,” Jessica snapped back.
“Good? You like my hair really, don’t you?” George narrowed his eyes at her, and she fidgeted on her seat.
“No, I mean good that you shouldn’t have to change your hair for anybody,” she grimaced.
She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t quite find the words. Not after he’d already busted her.
“Are you going to admit that you like me now?” George asked as he reached in and started yanking ingredients from the refrigerator.
“No.”
“But you know that you’re going to have to do it sometime,” George offered back.
“I don’t like you, George.” Jessica shrugged. “I think there’s been a horrible mistake.”
“When have you ever known the fairy godmother to make a mistake?”
“She made you the Christmas fairy, didn’t she?” Jessica grumbled.
She knew that there had been no mistake. If she were being truthful with herself, then she’d felt a pulling towards George for a while now.
Damn fate.
Damn the mating pull.
Damn the fairy godmother.
Damn George.
Damn — damn — damn it.
She was sunk, and she knew it. This was the end of the line for her carefree fairy days. She was going to be a mate.
To George of all people.
Fluffy George. George with the nice eyes. George with the winning smile. George with the sexy body.
George who she wanted to see naked.
She was doomed.
~
~
~
Jessica didn’t feel one bit of guilt that she’d fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the fire. She had something of a chocolate coma going on, and George was messing around in the kitchen.
When she sniffed the air upon waking, she was surprised to find that it actually smelled quite good. Whatever George was cooking — her belly growled as if it wanted some.
She didn’t know if she was actually daring enough to try it — George could very w
ell be trying to poison her. But as she rolled to a sitting position, and got a look at the man standing with his back to her, she felt slightly hungry for something other than food.
That wasn’t good. The mating pull could go and shove its head right up its own backside, so could the fairy godmother, and so good fate. She was not going to mate with George.
She wasn’t? Did she really have a choice in the matter?
Jessica gave a small shake of her head and pushed those thoughts away. Of course, she had a choice in the matter.
The mating pull was just a response; it didn’t mean that she had to flip over and assume the position, any position, any position would probably be good with George — she shook that thought away as well.
“I know you’re looking at me,” George tossed over his shoulder without looking around.
“Big fluffy head — big ego, check.”
“Tell me this doesn’t smell good,” George tossed back.
He chose to ignore her jibes about his hair. He knew she liked it really.
“It doesn’t smell good,” she lied. But he had asked.
“Tell me you’re not hungry,” he offered back with a small, deep, chuckle that ran over her skin and jumped up and down on her last nerve.
“I had all that chocolate,” she lied again. In a roundabout way.
“Tell me you’re not going to be this awkward for the rest of our lives,” George chuckled to himself. He could imagine the look on her face — probably the same look that he would have if he sucked on a sour lemon.
“George,” she said no more.
“Yes?” He knew he was being set up to something, but he couldn’t resist letting her have her way.
“Go bury your fluffy head in a snow bank, and this time, I’m not going to rescue you,” she offered back.
The sound of George’s chuckling annoyed her so because it didn’t annoy her, no, instead, it rolled over her skin as if his fingers were touching her. She didn’t want George’s fingers anywhere near.
That was a lie as well.
“Rescue me?”
“Oh, how quickly we forget,” she snorted her contempt for him.
Then she made haste towards the bathroom, and she couldn’t resist offering him an evil glare and poking out her tongue on the way — even though he wasn’t even looking at her.
“I seem to remember you going splat,” George offered back, just she stepped into the bathroom. She narrowed her eyes at him and silently mimicked him.
“I seem to remember that was meant for you,” Jessica tossed back. “So, you’re welcome.” She slammed the door shut between them before he could say anything else.
George grunted in annoyance. Yes, that blow had been meant for him, and she’d taken the brunt of it. It wasn’t his finest hour, and he remembered that sick feeling he’d gotten when he thought she’d been hurt badly.
He’d grown up a lot since then. It was only a few days in the grand scheme of things — but so much had happened. Three mates — three matings — and a whole heap of trouble.
And all that time she’d been by his side. Helping him, guiding him, shrieking at him — his mate, who would have thought it?
“Hypocrite,” George tossed back over his shoulder, loud enough for her to hear through the bathroom door.
“Me or you?”
“You. Definitely you.”
“How so?”
“You were the Christmas fairy for two years — this year you were helping me put mates together, but now that it’s you…”
“But it’s not me that’s the problem, George. It’s you,” she chuckled to herself.
“Hypocrite.” Silence greeted him, and he knew that she’d be mulling that one over.
George plated up the food. When Jessica still hadn’t answered him, let alone come out of the bathroom, he padded over to the door and gave a gentle knock — with his booted foot.
“Are you in the bath?” George asked. Silence greeted his ears. “Are you okay?” Nothing.
George didn’t like it. After kicking the door with his boot, he’d expected her to at least shriek at him. Perhaps she was giving him the silent treatment? Perhaps not.
George grimaced. He really wanted to kick the door in and make sure that she was okay, but what if she just wasn’t speaking to him and he caught her in a compromising situation?
George lifted a hand and ran it through his fluffy hair. Then he grimaced once more as he placed his hand against the door and considered his options. He lifted both fists and pounded.
Silence.
That was it. George couldn’t wait a moment longer; frustration rose within him, and a whole heap of concern.
George put his shoulder to the door and pushed really, really hard. It didn’t take much effort to get in as the flimsy lock gave way under his weight, and he fell into the room — the empty room.
George didn’t need to look at the open window — he felt the cold icy blast of air coming through it, and cursed under his breath.
That devious little fairy had escaped him. Why would she do that?
CHAPTER EIGHT
~
George didn’t much care about the chain of events that led to Jessica’s reasoning. She was a female fairy — enough said.
He did care about following her footsteps before they got lost in the snow. George hightailed it out of the window after her. He had considered using the front door, but that was locked, and her trail was right there in the snow.
It was damn cold — bone cold. He shivered against the arctic wind and the snow that was coming down around him. If he was cold, then she would be freezing. She didn’t have a coat either.
George eyed the tracks in the snow. Jessica’s prints were there for him to see, but then so were some other sets of tracks. They were smaller and on either side of hers.
George felt that feeling again, the same feeling that he’d had when the bear had splattered her against the car. His stomach sank, it felt heavy, and he had an irrational need to kill somebody.
George set off after them. He had no idea what these people were playing at — bringing them to the cabin, telling them that they were mates, and then abducting Jessica.
Mates or not, he was damn well going to get Jessica back, and he was going to kill anyone who tried to get in his way.
Nobody messed with the Christmas Fairy and his friends.
~
~
~
Jessica was spitting feathers. To be abducted from your own bathroom, not that it was her bathroom, but she was going to use it and dragged out in the freezing cold by two elves who hadn’t even told her why was just damned rude, and that was putting it mildly.
“I’m going to rip your arms off and beat you over the head with them,” she hissed out. It sounded so good, so threatening when the Bears said it that she thought she might give to go.
It had absolutely no effect on the elves whatsoever.
“We need you,” one of the elves informed her.
“Oh, really, and you couldn’t have just asked for my help?” Jessica didn’t trust them as far as she could throw them.
“You might have said no,” the other one informed her.
“And you think I’m going to help you now?” She snorted a chuckle of contempt for them.
“Yes.”
“Definitely.”
“Dream on Butthead and Wiesel,” Jessica hissed.
It might have sounded better if her teeth hadn’t been chattering at the time, but needs must. She figured that as long as she kept talking it might just stop her jaw from seizing up.
“But we need your fairy magic…” One said.
“Fairy dust,” the other nodded his head in agreement.
“And did nobody tell you that we don’t have magic here?” Jessica tossed back at them.
“You will soon,” one said.
“Not long now,” the other one agreed.
“Good. Because then I won’t need to rip your arms off and
beat you with them — I can use my magic to kill both of you,” she grumbled.
“It doesn’t work like that,” the elf to her right informed her, and she remembered what Troy had told her.
Only good magic worked. But why would they think that she’d use good magic for her abductors benefit?
Of course, she had no intention of killing anyone, even them. But at least if she found a way to use good magic to thwart whatever evil scheme they had going then that was, by definition, a good thing.
It was just a shame that George wasn’t nearby when she did figure her magic out — because then she could plant his head in a snow bank. That would be a good thing too or maybe not.
Jessica couldn’t help thinking about George. Poor, fluffy-headed, George, back at the cabin with no idea that she’d gone.
What would he think when he finally got a clue and opened the bathroom door?
Poor George! He’d obviously think that she ran out on him. That sent her guilty gene rising within her.
Not that she had anything to feel guilty about, she didn’t run; she was abducted. But still.
Poor George!
~
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~
“Hey!” Troy called out as he saw the Christmas fairy with his head down, stalking across the landscape in entirely the wrong direction to where his mate was.
“What did you do?” George bit out as he turned a death glare on the reindeer shifter.
“You can’t run out on your mate!” Troy grumbled a growl.
“But, I suppose it’s okay for you people to abduct her?” George tossed back.
“Huh?”
“I should wring your scrawny little neck,” George grumbled.
“Scrawny?” Troy offered George a look that said he thought he’d gone insane. Maybe George had, all he wanted was Jessica back.
“Where is she? Who’s got her? Why did you take her…?” George demanded.
“Now, hold on,” Troy held up his hand to silence the man as George stormed toward him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about — but if you wanna tell me what you’re talking about then we can go from there?”
“Jessica!” George bit out.